A Day in the Life
by LennonsStarr
Summary: A day passes in the life of Dutch and Chris about a week after 'The Corner of my Mind.' Please review!
1. I Want You

Chapter 1

Dutch twirled his fingers anxiously, sitting in a small room by himself. The room reminded him of an interrogation room, and only made him even more uncomfortable.

_Oh, what an awkward position I find myself in_.

His back wasn't so sore anymore. He was taking antibiotics for the infection that had started to fester under the skin.

But right at the moment he could really care less about his back. Or any of the many bruises that riddled his body. All he cared about was that he was going to see her today. Chris was coming to see him, and he was getting more and more anxious to see her.

It seemed like hours were going by and she wasn't arriving. But finally the door eased open and she stepped in.

Dutch jumped to his feet, startling the guard who was standing in the corner. But he didn't mind. He rushed across the room, apparently startling Chris as well, because her muscles were stiff as rock when he pulled her into his arms. After a few moments she relaxed against him, her arms going around him, burying her face against his chest.

"I miss you," Dutch murmured, kissing her hair.

"I miss you, too," Chris whispered as she pulled back a little, tilting her head back to accept a kiss to her lips.

He couldn't get over how sweet she tasted, and he couldn't seem to let go of her. But she finally pulled away from him entirely, breaking the kiss, the hug, everything. At the moment she severed their contact, Dutch felt ill. He felt as though he would vomit.

Chris strode quietly past him and sat down at the table, arranging her hands neatly in her lap. She closed her eyes, tilting her head forward. It was silent, as though she were praying.

"Chris?" Dutch asked quietly, walking around the table to his chair and sitting down. "Is everything OK?"

"No," Chris murmured, her eyes still closed. "No, everything is not fucking OK." Her words were so smooth and so cold they were like a knife.

Reaching out, Dutch leaned over the table and touched her cheek, so gently he could barely feel her skin. But she felt the touch, and she jerked away from it. "What is it?" Dutch asked, leaning back, starting to feel impatient.

"You abandoned me," Chris said, opening her eyes and leveling them at him. "And I don't understand why."

"I didn't abandon you," Dutch said, his voice growing dark.

"I slept all by myself last night," Chris hissed, leaning forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. "I was scared."

"Why?"

"Because I know there are people out there who royally fucking pissed at you right now and because I know that they could find me!" Chris said, her voice raising with every syllable until she was yelling. "You wouldn't be in here if you hadn't put yourself here!"

"This isn't about you anymore," Dutch said, keeping his own voice level. "This doesn't have anything to do with you any more!"

"But it started with me!" Chris yelled, slamming her fist on the top of the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but her voice failed her. Tears began to gather in her eyes and she sank back into the chair and pulled her hand back into her lap. "You killed those men in self defense."

"No," Dutch said, shaking his head. "I blew out a kids brain and I smiled. The kid was trying to run away. He wasn't going to hurt me."

"You would have gotten away from that if you hadn't come here because of me."

"No, I wouldn't have," Dutch said quietly. The conversation had gone from a yelling one to a whispering one. "And it wasn't your fault-"

"It was," Chris said quickly, looking down at her open palms. "You never hurt me, Dutch. But they thought you did, and you went along with them 'cause you felt guilty. Why?"

"Crystal, it's not your fault, OK?" Dutch said. "I wouldn't have gotten away from any of this."

Looking back up, Chris leaned across the table, dropping her voice so much so that it was barely audible. Dutch had to lean forward to make out the words she was whispering. "Claim self-defense, please? You felt guilty about it - say you felt guilty and that's why you said what you did. But it was really self defense-"

"No, Chris," Dutch said quietly. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not true."

"It wouldn't have happened if they hadn't attacked you," Chris pleaded. "Please...I want you to come home."

Shaking his head, Dutch lowered her eyes and didn't say anything. He reached forward and took Chris's hands in his, holding them tightly. He wasn't sure that there was anything else to say about this. The argument could go on forever, and neither would make their point to the other.

"I want you to come home," Chris repeated quietly.

Dutch lay his head down on the cool table. His head was starting to hurt, and he was exhausted. He wanted to go home, too. But it was too late for that.

Letting go of his hand, Chris got up and walked around behind him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing the top of his head. "I miss you," she whispered.

"I miss you, too," Dutch said quietly, savoring the feeling of her arms around him.

"OK," said the guard, who seemed to be feeling uneasy now. "That's all your time."


	2. Getting Better

Chapter 2 - 8:45 A.M.

Tears were streaming down Chris's face when she stepped outside in the bright sun. It felt it should have been raining, but the sun was shinning just as brightly as ever.

As she walked down the street Chris realized that she hadn't eaten for a few days. Her stomach was a hollow pit at the center of her body.

Pulling her purse over her shoulder, Chris touched her stomach, feeling that it was sucking in as though she hadn't eaten for weeks rather than just a few days. But there was nothing that she wanted to eat. She did feel partial to a cup of tea, however.

After a few blocks Chris saw a coffee place and walked through it's doors. The air seemed chilled inside, and there were several people drinking coffee and tea and eating donuts and muffins. Maybe she would get a muffin, too.

She approached the woman behind the counter and ordered some green tea and a poppy seed muffin. Yeah, that should make her feel better.

"Five dollars," the woman said as she rang up the price.

Chris reached into her purse, searching for the five dollar bill she new was in there, somewhere. Where was it? "Just a second," she murmured, sifting carefully through all the clutter in her purse. "I'm sorry..."

The bill was gone.

Without another word, Chris just turned her back to the woman and stormed out of the coffee shop. "Shit," she snarled, pressing a hand to her throbbing temple. "Shit, shit, shit!"

It was going to be another one of those days.

* * *

As soon as Dutch was in the holding cell he got word that the district attorney wanted to see him. How many times was he going to have to see this woman before she just left him alone?

So once more he was escorted down the hall to the room where he and Chris had just had their exchange. His headache had only intensified in the past few minutes and...There seemed to be music playing somewhere.

"Hello, Mr. Wagenbach," the tall, thin attorney said, holding her hand out to shake his.

He shook his head and sat down. He had shaken her hand before, and he really didn't feel like shaking it again.

"All right, then," she said, pulling her hand back and looking down at him with a strained grin that wanted to be a snarl. She sat down and pulled a manila folder from her briefcase. "I think we should discuss your decision to plead-"

"Have you heard _Within You Without You_?"

"Holland-"

"No, really. It's a fantastic song. The Beatles. Written by George Harrison-"

"Mr. Wagenbach!" The DA had finally had enough with him. "We have got to get down to business."

"Why?" Dutch asked, leaning back into his chair and shrugging. "I should be here. I should be in prison. I'm dangerous."

"But you can get off easily," the DA said, her voice irritable. "You are a respected detective, you have no priors. These men attacked you, and since the incident with your girlfriend has been dropped..." her voice trailed off, and her eyes narrowed on Dutch's face. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dutch said, waving a hand carelessly. "The abuse charges are gone; I'm a respective detective, blah blah blah..."

"This is very important," the DA said. "Those men instigated the violence that took place that day. They left evidence all over your body. It's an in and out case. If you change your plea, that is."

Dutch sighed, stroking his chin for a moment, thinking of Chris. She just wanted him to come home, and he did badly want to go home, himself. He missed her, and he wanted her.

"All right," he murmured.

"What?" The DA had heard him, she was just shocked. They had been over this five times before. She couldn't believe that he had just decided to change his plea!

"I'll change my plea," he said, feeling his heart hardening in his chest. "They brought it upon themselves...and I want to get out of here." He looked up at her and laughed. "I thought you had given up on me."

"I had," the DA said, looking down at the folder. She had not even needed to use its contents. "Well, that's just...I'll see you in court."

"Five, right?" Dutch checked.

"Yeah," the DA said, getting to her feet and shoving the folder back into her briefcase. "See yuh then."

"See yuh."

* * *

Chris waved her hand as a taxi drove by. "Hey!" She yelled as it sped up and went right on past her. She watched it go, frustration boiling up in her chest. "Fuck you!" She screamed, hurling her worthless purse at it as it vanished around the corner. "God, is it so fucking hard to give a ride like your supposed to, jack ass?"

"Excuse me, ma'am."

She spun around and found herself face-to-face with a cop. She rolled her eyes as her shoulders sagged. "Oh my God," she snarled, lowering her eyes and running a hand over her eyes. "I'm sorry, officer, it's just-"

"Go get your purse, Ma'am," the officer said. "And try not to cause any more disturbances."

Looking around herm, Chris saw that there were many eyes fixed on her. She looked back at the officer, feeling her cheeks burning. "I'm sorry."

"It's no problem," the officer said, pointing to her purse. "Just go get your purse, please."

She nodded and turned shyly away, walking swiftly down the street to gather her purse. She picked it up and brushed off all the dirt and dust, glancing once over her shoulder at the officer, still watching her, before she darted across the street and continued on her way.

But just around the corner, she was almost taken down by a boy on a bike. He grazed her arm and she fell against the wall when his bike skidded and toppled over in the road. A car just barely missed the boy as he pulled himself back onto the sidewalk.

"Fuck!" Chris shouted, looking at the bruise already forming on her arm.

The boy pulled the bike onto its wheels and looked over at her. "Are you OK, Miss?"

"Yeah, I'm fucking brilliant," Chris snarled, looking at the boy, who looked scared out of his wits. "I'm sorry."

The boy nodded and jumped on his bike, continuing around the corner.

Looking back down at her arm, Chris saw a stream of blood running down her arm. She hadn't notice the neat cut that ran along the edge of the bruise, the one that was no bleeding profusely.


End file.
